The Wisdom of Donkeys by Andy Merrifield is a poignant and peaceful book that has unequivocally changed the way I look at donkeys forever. The bond that Merrifield forms with his four-legged companion, Gribouille, is profound, emotional and honest; traits that human relationships could benefit from but are often sadly missing.
From the very beginning of the book Merrifield’s description of Gribouille’s manner suggests qualities expected in a therapist;
“Gribouille is patient and considerate, never interrupts and always lets you finish what you want to say. He gives you time to pause, to reflect, to search in your head for the best word, for the mot juste and then lets you enunciate it clearly and carefully.”
I liked the idea that the author was on a literal journey of self-discovery with his donkey as his therapist. This travelling duo spoke to me on several levels; my passion for travelling and discovering new places, my journey into my chosen career of psychotherapy and the feeling of freedom that permeates throughout the entire book. I lost myself in the pages, imagining I was there as a silent companion, observing this partnership and discovering thing about myself in the process.
The pace of this book is slow (but not tiresome) and considered, two necessary qualities when on a journey of self-discovery. Merrifield’s use of philosophical insights such as Spinoza’s thoughts on eternity got me thinking about how hard it is to truly understand oneself with all the distraction of the modern world we live in;
“Only intense reflection and self-reflection, detaching itself from all life’s clutter and clatter, says Spinoza, can discover the eternal. We feel and know by experience…that we are eternal.”
I love the idea that we are eternal, that we are tiny intricacies of one enormous organic universe. This thought took me off into another world, into past memories, into future aspirations and I reflected on how little time I actually spend in this state of reverie; almost never. As I sat, wistfully daydreaming, I noticed that I was sitting in total silence; another rare and under-rated state of consciousness. I felt a connection with Merrifield in this moment as I thought about his past life in the fast-paced city of New York. Where his once love of this city has turned into a suffocating hatred that he needed to escape from. I felt a sadness that I too am guilty of letting the “clutter and clatter” of everyday life get in the way of actually seeing and experiencing the here and now. I have always thought that I live in the moment but in that moment of silent reverie I realised that this is not the case.
Later on in the book Merrifield asks the questions “Does anybody still daydream anymore? Are we too busy, too preoccupied to muse, too fearful to keep quiet, to say nothing and just stare, just drift off somewhere?” I feel that we have lost this in our society, it isn’t acceptable to appear to be doing nothing, if we are still for any length of time we are labelled lazy or are questioned; have you got nothing better to do? Gaston Bachelard suggests that “there is no well-being without reverie”. Self-awareness, self-discovery and completeness can only come through the exploration of our thoughts and musing and a lucid daydream when relaxed and given time to develop can open windows into the soul.
The restless wanderer in me connected with this book and with the relationship between Andy and Gribouille, I was there, I was experiencing the wisdom of donkeys and the beautiful vistas, the melancholy, the freedom, the achievement, the companionship – I loved it all and by the final pages I felt that I had been on the journey with them. The journey of self-discovery, a new-found love and respect for donkeys and underpinning it all is the idea that “day-dreaming makes us.” The modern world encourages us to walk around with our eyes wide shut but allowing ourselves to daydream opens our eyes to the world around us.
